Empty Brown Eyes
by BellaNight
Summary: Ginny is in an abusive relationship with Harry. Draco wants to save her, but she is gone before he can. ONE SHOT! Rated for language, violance, angst, and the main topic (DEATH AND SUICIDE).


Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, as it is fanfic. The plot is though! The song is _Mary Jane_ by Alanis Morisette.

Authors note: Inspired by Alanis Morisette, a freaky dream, and the bittersweet of life.

Brown eyes filled with nothing. Nothing.

No pain

No anger

No hate.

It's his fault. Him, the one who used her. So innocent, so beautiful, so used. Why? Why did you do it? Was it revenge? What did she ever do but love you? That's what I don't understand. And I still ask you why...

And you say because. Because of control. But what happened? Only this...

_What's the matter Mary Jane, you had a hard day_

_As you place the don't disturb sign on the door_

_You lost your place in line again, what a pity_

_You never seem to want to dance anymore  
_

Ginny Weasley lay curled on the floor; blood surrounding her. She whimpered, darkness filling her mind, the splitting pain running though her bones. Why did he do this to her? She did what he wanted, everything those green eyes commanded. But she must deserve it, because he would never hurt her unless it was for her own good. He had saved her: he loved her. It was just that she was unworthy of him.

Another blow, this time harder, knocking the wind out of her. It was her fault. She shouldn't have left his washing out. House-elves never touched his clothes; they were to be treated with respect, just like Hermione had commanded. She knew he met with Hermione: the perfect girl, the one she could never live up to. But she didn't care. He loved her.

"Get up," No movement from her limp body. She tried: God knows, she tried as hard as she could to move, but she couldn't. "I said get up you worthless bitch!" The voice was louder now, harsher, screaming its orders to her. But she couldn't. Her bones and body had given up, and now there was no more power left to fight. Nothing left in those deep brown eyes. Another hit. She couldn't take it any more. "You never learn," he sighed grimly. "You need to be taught that _you _obey _me_!"

_It's a long way down_

_On this roller coaster_

_The last chance streetcar_

_Went off the track_

_And you're in it _

She felt his cold hands grope at the buttons of her top, ripping it from her skinny frame. She wanted to scream, to stop the pain. But it would never be. She was his. His Ginny. His girl. His slave he could commit his horrid acts of assault on. Her eyes faded in and out of focus, but his face, staring, angry, hungry, was always there. Always there to hurt her. His weight was on her now; brutally he ripped her jeans off her. His lips crashed into hers, drawing blood. She whimpered. Soon it would be over...

_I hear you're counting sheep again Mary Jane_

_What's the point of tryin' to dream anymore_

_I hear you're losing weight again Mary Jane_

_Do you ever wonder who you're losing it for_

She heard the door close. She tried to stand, but she couldn't. His weight was still on her even though he had left her alone in this bed of pain. She hated him. She loved him. And she knew she deserved what she was getting. The bruises proved that she was his. She deserved this life. Harry knew and so had Tom Riddle. Two of a kind. Both evil and twisted, one the better actor than the other. And it didn't take a genius to figure out who the actor was.

She winced at this thought, slapping herself mentally. She was an ungrateful bitch. He was perfect, and she got what she deserved. No wonder he beat her: she was comparing her love to Tom Riddle, the sixteen-year-old form of he-who-must-not-be-named. She deserved what she got. He was trying to teach her. These were her last thoughts before she slipped into unconsciousness...

_Well it's full speed baby_

_In the wrong direction_

_There's a few more bruises_

_If that's the way_

_You insist on heading_

"Weasley. Weasley. Oh bloody hell, don't make me touch you," She knew that voice, but in a different respect. Normally he was so cold, so distant, so harsh. Now warmth and concern seemed to spill from his mouth. Why?

"Dra...Draco," she mumbled, rolling over onto her less bruised side. She could see his fuzzy outline. His skin seemed paler than usual, but it could be her. Sight was not with her.

"What the fuck happened, Ginny?" he asked angrily, but he was not angry with her. He had a good idea of what had happened. Potter. He knew. He knew more than he should, and he had paid for knowing. Potter and his stupid, unworthy mudblood whore Granger had cornered him, cursing the daylights out of him and threatening to do worse to Ginny if he said a word to anyone. So, for Ginny's sake, he had not mentioned what he knew, but he had always wanted to save her. She was just like him, really, and you had to feel for her poor soul. The soul so possessed by Potter that she did whatever he told her.

But she barely heard the words he spoke. She was again falling into the black abyss of unconsciousness, and no one could get her back.

_Please be honest Mary Jane_

_Are you happy_

_Please don't censor your tears_

_You're the sweet crusader_

_And you're on your way_

_You're the last great innocent_

_And that's why I love you_

A week had past since Draco had brought her to the infirmary. Ron, being the ever-clueless brother he had always been, suspected Draco. But she said it was falling down the stairs. No one really believed her, but accepted it for her sake.

She sat alone in the bathroom, staring at the ceiling, running her finger along the edge of a knife. No, there was no point to life. But did she want it to end like this? Just one cut and death? No. Genevra Weasley would not go unnoticed in death as well as life. She stood up slowly, her mind spinning. Would the impact kill instantly, or would she lay there, curled in pain? She hoped it would be the first: she had suffered enough pain.

The window slip open, and she slid onto the windowsill, her feet dangling over the edge as she looked into the deep lake below her. One jump, then peace. She winced as she got to her feet, the cuts and bruises on her back and shoulders still hurting from where he had beaten her. Would anyone miss her? She doubted it. And with a final breath of fresh, cool air, she flung herself from the ledge, tumbling to the lake below.

_So take this moment Mary Jane and be selfish_

_Worry not about the cars that go by_

_All that matters Mary Jane is your freedom_

_Keep warm and dry my dear, keep dry..._

They found her that evening, cold and pale, laying on the surface, her brown eyes wide in horror, her red hair fanned out. He dragged her from the water, and he cried. Cried for the first time in years. Cried for the lost love and the lost innocence. Rage overcame him as he cradled her limp, lifeless body, and he cursed Potter for what he had done. And still her eyes were empty and wide, beautiful. Not reflecting a thing. Empty.

They found him in his room next day, hanging from a belt. He left a note, told his parents he loved them, told Potter he would die a painful death. And Draco Malfoy was buried beside his secret love. Forever together in death, where the peace is.

_Tell me_

_Tell me_

_What's the matter Mary Jane..._


End file.
